An Evil Eye

86

Out in the roadsteads of the Sea of Marmara the cutter strained at its anchor, meeting each swirl of the current with an almost imperceptible swing of its stern. A lantern burned at its bows; another swung from a lanyard by the mainmast, describing circles that slid shadows across the decks. Now and then a mast creaked, and the rigging gave a soft boom whenever the wind died.

The lieutenant had not yet returned when an oar splashed close to the ship, followed by a low whistle.

A rope ladder dropped from the cutter’s side, and the approaching caique slid into the deep shadow beneath the rail.

A man moved out into the light on deck. He was visible only in silhouette, and then the lantern took its turn and the darkness dropped and the man disappeared into the dark, taking the ladder rung by rung.

An oar scraped against the wooden hull of the cutter. The rigging hummed in the breeze, and the caique’s hull hissed against the current. It was barely a sound; and the oars dipped noiselessly into the water.

When the lamplight circled to the rail again, the deck was as empty as before.